Giselle swallowed
by Melinda Lumenthal
Summary: Giselle never expected that a chance encounter with a handsome stranger on a train would lead her to the thing she wanted most in the world... the only thing she could not have. Torn between falling for her boss, and the rules of the game, Giselle finds herself lost in the world of Steele pots and pans. Belinda blinked fanfiction, inspired by the podcast "My dad wrote a porno"
1. Chapter 1

_This story is the product of listening to the podcast "My Dad Wrote a Porno" repeatedly for the past six months, so all characters etc. belong to Rocky Flintstone and the book Belinda Blinked. Since I have noticed that there is no fanfiction for the story (unusual since we're normally very rapid to produce smut of anything) I decided to set myself the exercise of writing something completely new and out of my comfort zone... hence, I wrote a porno._

* * *

 _Chapter One: The mysterious man on the train_

The train jostled, almost sending an already unsteady Giselle flying. In her difficulty, juggling her coffee in one hand and her phone in the other, she had had no hands free to hold onto anything, and the combination of a too tight pencil skirt and overly high heels had thrown her.

At the expense of the last dregs of her Starbucks, she grabbed for a handle as she fell, but someone saved her at the last second. A strong arm wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her back to her feet, and she let out a sigh of relief as she was righted. She flushed slightly in the already too hot train, feeling the stranger linger at her back. He still didn't let go, the muscular arm remaining protectively around her waist.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice so deep it reverberated in her aching chest, causing her heart to skip a beat. She turned to thank her saviour, and she was greeted by a handsome face. He was perhaps two decades her senior, and his chiselled features were highlighted by just the right amount of stubble. She couldn't have hoped for a better saviour. Her face was growing warmer by the second, beginning to blend with her lipstick, and she patted her blonde hair down slightly. The humidity in the carriage was making it frizz, and she was certain the heat coming from her face wasn't helping.

"Yes, thank you," she said, embarrassed by how unsteady her voice sounded. She was certain she seemed like nothing more than a foolish girl in his eyes, and that squeaking voice probably hadn't helped. "Sorry, it was the heels." The breathtakingly blue eyes looked down, and his rugged face broke into a dazzlingly white smile at the sight of the towering red pumps.

""That would do it," he said. "You know that's just about my favourite colour," he muttered, his lips suddenly so close to her ear that she could practically feel them kissing the flushing skin.

"Oh?" she asked, flicking her hair out of her face and trying to regain the confidence that she had been famous for in her university days. "And what's your absolute favourite then?" He looked deep into her eyes, blue forming an unbreakable connection with the deep green depths, and smiled, causing her to lose what little dignity she had left and giggle.  
"I would have to say, right this moment, it's emerald green."

Her knees felt a little weak, but before she could say a word, the voice of the insufferable tannoy system had echoed through the carriage. He tipped his head slightly to listen the announcement, and his lips quirked slightly into a smile. "Sounds like it's my stop," he said. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a scrap of paper and rather expensive looking pen and scribbled something down. "Call me some time, I'd love to take you out for a drink." He placed the paper in her outstretched palm, and only now did he finally remove his hand from her waist. She hadn't even realised it was there until it was gone, leaving the skin feeling cold and abandoned.

He picked up his briefcase and stepped off the train with one last smile. They never broke eye contact as the train pulled away, the still nameless man smiling as a passing train ruffled the salt and pepper hair slightly, and she tucked the paper into her front pocket. It was only as the train left the station that realisation hit her.

"Oh bollocks, that was my stop."


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two: The Interview_

After a rather stressful trip to the next station and back, wasting time she hadn't really had to spare, she finally found herself at the last stop. She couldn't help glancing around the station as she passed through, hoping perhaps she might see the mysterious stranger, but he was nowhere to be seen. She had looked over the little scrap of paper at the surprisingly neat handwriting, adding the number to her phone should anything happen to the precious digits, but there was no name.

Her phone buzzed as she was tottering down the street, and she groaned at the name that flashed on the screen. Why did her mother always insist on doing this? She held the phone to her ear, careful to hold it just far enough away to not touch her impeccable makeup,

"Yes, mother, I'm on time, and I'm nearly at the office." The voice on the other end was condescending,

"You should have been there half an hour ago, darling," she said. "Honestly, how are you ever going to get a job if you're always late to things?"

"Mother, I'm five minutes away, and the interview doesn't start for half an hour. I'm hardly late." The old woman wasn't listening, she was blathering on already about Verity Davies' daughter, and how she had gotten a great job straight out of university. "Yes, I know mother, it's not like I'm not trying."

That was certainly true. She had more temping work and work experience on her CV than most of her friends combined, but she had rather wasted her time at university. The first attempt, at an economics degree, she had failed right off the bat from having rather a bit too much fun, forgetting that lectures were actually a thing that she needed to get up to go to rather than wasting the day away in bed with a string of boyfriends. The second time she had attempted it, she had been more serious, but disastrously poorly matched to her business degree. Employers were hardly chomping at the bit to get her into their offices. She had been lucky that her cousin Peter had had dealings with the company in the past and passed her CV on when he had last been visiting.

"Honestly, all that money we spent on your education, and all you can get is an interview as a personal assistant?" Giselle pursed her lips, momentarily forgetting about the ruby lip that she was no doubt ruining. She reminded herself to give that a touch up soon.

"It's all I want at the moment, mother, and it's a good way to get some experience." It was like the woman was deliberately ignoring her, continuing to harp away on the other end,

"Perhaps if you dressed a little more professionally, darling. It's hardly giving your employers the right impression." Giselle tensed slightly as she arrived at the building she was looking for, and she snapped,

"Alright, mother, I'm here. I'll speak to you when I'm done." She silenced the phone with a sharp jab and stormed into the building. _Call me a slut,_ Giselle thought. _She's the one who got her first job by screwing the boss… a married boss at that._

She adjusted her handbag on her shoulder, stepped into the lift, and fixed her lipstick in the mirror. When the lift doors slid open, she was ready. Armed with her CV and a list full of questions, she stormed into the office and approached the receptionist.

The girl behind the front desk was nice looking, if a little plain, and her face split into a wide grin when she caught sight of Giselle.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Hi, my name is Giselle van Houten, I'm here for an interview with your managing director." The girl smiled,

"Oh, yes, of course. If you want to have a seat, I'll just go and see if he's ready for you." The brunette jumped eagerly to her feet and disappeared off at top speed. She was a slight young thing, Giselle thought; she was probably older than herself, but what with her standing at least a foot shorter than Giselle even without the heels, it was hard to align that thought in her head.

She seated herself elegantly on the available sofa, crossing her legs elegantly at the ankle and pretending not to notice every male eye in the room climbing the smooth, creamy limb. She only had to wait a moment before Bella reappeared at her side,

"He's still got the other girl in with him at the moment, but I imagine it will only be a few minutes… I don't think it was going very well for her."

"Of course," Giselle said, smiling politely. The receptionist dropped into the seat beside her with a big grin on her face,

"You come far?"

"Not particularly, I'm living in my grandmother's house at present, so not a long commute if I were to be working here." The brunette dropped her chin into her palm, looking at Giselle with a familiar sappy expression. "Mr Scott mentioned that the vacancy needed to be filled urgently, have you had much interest?"

"A couple of girls. No-one's quite fit our company's exact… requirements quite yet," she said with a purr, edging slightly closer to Giselle. "I presume your cousin prepped you on the unusual _culture_ of our company," she said, leaning in. The eyes watching the two girls goggled in slight anticipation.

"He mentioned he thought I would be sufficiently experienced, and I'm very eager to please," Giselle said, lips quirking into a small smile. The receptionist nodded,

"I can see you are... you know, Mr Scott's current assistant is going on maternity leave," she offered up.

"Oh, really?" Giselle said, leaning into the ever closing gap between the two of them. "Will she be back?"

"I doubt it," Bella said, simply. "I think she's decided to grow up now she's going to have a baby... no more time for fun and shenanigans she said to me."

They were interrupted by the sound of furiously clacking heels, and a figure stormed out of a nearby hallway,

"Sounds like another unsuitable applicant," said Bella, abruptly pulling away. The girl that passed was visibly seething as she stopped in front of the pair of them. She was stout and homely, her hair as groomed as she could manage though still unmistakably frizzy, and her face only a little bit pretty.

"Are you here for the job, too?" she snapped. Giselle raised a delicate eyebrow,

"I am?" The girl shook her head furiously,

"They're chauvinist pigs, and I wouldn't work here if they paid me." Giselle fought the urge to point out the obvious, and the girl disappeared in a whirl.

"Oh, dear," Bella said, looking at someone over Giselle's shoulder. "Not a good match?"

"I told her that she didn't fit the image that I wish our company to maintain," said a deep, rumbling voice. Giselle almost fell off her seat in recognition. "Not like the lovely Miss Van Outen here. I'm certain we will get on rather nicely."

Giselle practically threw herself to her feet, turning to face the gorgeous gentlemen from the train. The older man smiled and held out a hand, "Now to introduce myself properly, Miss Van Outen… it is Miss, isn't it?" he said with a suggestive purr.

"Oh, yes," she said, heart pounding slightly in her chest. Her manicured hand looked tiny in the bear-like grasp, and she melted slightly into it. "But you can call me Giselle." He retracted his hand, looking reluctant in doing so,

"In that case, call me Tony." He looked across at Bella, "Tell Violet to hold my morning tea," he said, his northern tones buttery and charming, "And make sure we are not disturbed." Bella nodded and disappeared off to her desk, leaving the two of them alone. "Giselle, would you like to come with me?" He asked, gently placing a hand on the small of her back to lead her into his office.

When he had ushered her into the plush, modern room, he gestured for her to take a seat. She perched herself delicately on the edge of the chair, and he prowled round his desk to recline in his large leather chair and appraise her. His fingers steepled in front of him, and he peered at her over the arch with furrowed brow. He looked at every last inch of her, his gaze burning lustful patterns into the flesh.

Finally, his deep voice broke the heady silence of the room,

"I hope you don't mind that it is just us today. Normally one of our men from Human Resources would sit in to ensure the rigour of my interviewing method, but he had to take an unexpected leave of absence." Giselle, lent forwards slightly, aware of the way her blouse collar fell open slightly, exposing a delicate collarbone.

"Oh, not at all," she said, finally finding her voice. "I prefer it this way. It's rather cosy... intimate even." He sat forward in his chair, closing the gap between them slightly as if he couldn't bear to be distanced for another second.

"Good, that is the precise manner in which I like to conduct my business." He tapped his chin with a strong finger, "Has your cousin told you much about the unique way that our industry conducts itself."

"Peter mentioned that you were part of a very tight knit community, and that your deals were conducted in a rather unusual way. He said I would enjoy myself here," she said, trailing off suggestively. He smirked.

"I like to think we can all have a little bit of fun in our dreary work lives, and I expect my staff to go above and beyond for the call of duty," he said. He pushed himself to his feet and cockily rounded the desk. He came to a halt in front of her and leaned slightly back against on the desktop, tapping on the glass. "Stand up for me, Miss van Outen."

Giselle did as he asked, body charging with adrenaline at the proximity to his muscular frame. They were so close her breasts almost brushed his broad torso. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch, and she licked her lips in anticipation.

"I told you to call me Giselle," she said, voice nothing more than a whisper.

"I like a little bit of formality," he said, with a cheeky grin. "It makes the informality that much more delicious." He reached out a single finger, running it down the long neck and thundering pulse, fingertip dipping momentarily into the delicate hollow of her neck, and then across her exposed collarbone where it came to a rest over the strap of her bra. "Take off the blouse," he whispered.

She reached up to expertly flick open the buttons of her blouse, inch by inch revealing a glorious heaving chest, encased in flimsy red lace. "If I had known you coordinated so beautifully earlier, I would have hired you on the spot," he said with a smirk.

"We didn't know each other earlier," she said, teasingly, gently tugging the swath of silk from her frame. He leant in even close, causing her breast to press against him and spill up out of their lace imprisonment.

"Then I would have ravaged you on the spot, instead," he said. "The rest of the carriage be damned." She laughed slightly, flicking her hair over her shoulder to allow him a better view of her cleavage,

"I'm sure they would have loved to see it," she said. She was stopped from saying anymore by Tony leaning in to press his hot, perfect mouth against her throat. His lips kissed and sucked at the sweet point so perfectly than she let out a gentle moan, and she gasped as he reached behind her to unclasp her bra with a single flick of the wrist. Her breasts were hit by the cold air so abruptly that her nipples pebbled against his far too clothed chest. She clumsily reached for his buttons, but he caught both of her hands in one of his, never pulling away from her neck as he nipped and nibbled,

"This is your interview," he said, huskly, "not mine." She giggled for a moment, and then he twirled her round and bent her over his desk. He pinned her there for moment, half bent over the desk, supported herself with trembling arms. The large hands slid up from her tiny waist, rough skin brushing the naked flesh, and they came to rest over her ample chest. Delicately he teased, hands massaging from behind, causing her head to fall back against him as she moaned.

His hard cock was pressed flush against her backside, and his hips began to grind, producing delicious friction. She pushed her hips back into him – fruitless in her attempts to get him where she truly wanted him. He teased her by pulling away and then bent to kiss a burning trail from the back of her neck all the way to the small of her back, where he dipped into the salty skin with a smile.

He dropped to his knees behind her, and his fingertips caught the bottom of her long pencil skirt. As he was began to push the fabric up, fumbling in his desperation to unveil every inch of her, he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

Giselle let out a slightly disappointed whine as he pulled back, and she pushed herself away from the desk to turn towards him. He was already across the room when she turned, standing by the door. He gestured for her to sit, and she sat heavily, brazenly topless, as he opened the door.

An attractive, if slightly plumping, middle-aged woman was stood on the other side. She didn't even blink twice when she saw the worked up state Tony was in, or the topless woman he was interviewing,

"I see you've found someone up to the tasks of our business," she said, never looking in Giselle's direction. Her boss smiled pleasantly at her,

"She seems to be shaping up rather nicely, Renee," he agreed. The woman's eyes narrowed,

"Well, you seem to have double booked another meeting for five minutes time, so you should wrap it up quickly. That won't be a change for you after all," the woman said, a slightly cruel dig in her tone. She held out a folder of papers. "Bella said you would be needing these, and I've put in the details for the sales expo at the O2 for three months' time. The application deadline is next week." Tony took the papers with a curt nod, and the woman turned in a whirl of shiny brunette curls.

Tony closed the door with a click. For a moment, he stood with his back to Giselle. She was aching for him to return and roughly fuck her against the desk. He didn't move.

"That shouldn't have happened," he said. Giselle deflated,

"It wasn't the most professional thing I've ever done," Giselle admitted.

"That's not the problem," he said, unable to help himself from turning his head slightly to catch a glance at the girl. She was so utterly delicious, her pale skin flushed and her breasts heaving. He had to take a steadying breath. "Here at Steele Pots and Pans, as you know we trade in a slightly unusual manner… what we just did was part of the usual interview process, to test that you would be up to demands of our clients, but I crossed a boundary." He crossed the room in two long strides, and she stood in anticipation of him relieving the intolerable need that thrummed through her entire body. "When I saw you today on the train, I wanted you more than anything I have ever wanted in this world… but we can't do this."

"Why not?" she asked breathily.

"That was my wife," he said, bluntly. She wobbled slightly. "Renee is our sales director. We have an agreement that whatever… business transactions I have to make, we leave it in the office. Nothing can ever be personal." Giselle bent to pick up her blouse, bristling slightly and embarrassed. So she was going to lose out on yet another job for almost screwing the boss, and she hadn't even gotten a good fuck out of it. Marvellous.

He caught her deftly, his large hand encircling her bird-like wrist, "I want to offer you the job."

"What?" she asked, slightly surprised after the embarrassing turn of events that had just occurred.

"I can't have you, but that doesn't mean I don't think you would do an excellent job. If you're willing, I would like you to start Monday." She almost couldn't believe it. She wanted to hug him, but given what had just happened, she didn't think that was appropriate. He opened the folder and removed some of the papers, which he handed to her with a smile.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You accept?" She nodded, and she almost went to walk out of the office, before abruptly remembering that she wasn't wearing a shirt. She reached down to pick up the fabric and tugged it on quickly, before tucking her golden ticket into her bag. At the last second, she decided to shake his hand, smiling slightly at the oddity of the formality given the previous moments. He turned the hand over and planted a gentle kiss to the top of the knuckles, "I look forward to seeing you Monday."


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three: Training_

The woman who came before her, Violet, was indeed very pregnant. Giselle had politely gone through all of the usual pregnancy questions as the woman got her up to speed on how Tony's office operated, and for the most part it seemed like it would be a challenging but enjoyable job.

"Now, you'll be the face of the business, so you have to be extremely well turned out at all times," said the woman, as she perched on her desk with a hand on her expansive stomach. It was a nice little area outside of Tony's office, tucked in a private corridor away from the rest of the office floor. She had a little mahogany desk, space for some of her knick-knacks, and most importantly, a view directly through the large glass wall of Tony's office. She hadn't noticed it in her interview, as the blinds had been closed, but now it was all she could focus on, her training going in one ear and out the other.

Tony for his part seemed equally distracted, constantly looking up from his computer and glancing in her direction. At first she thought he was just uncomfortable with her staring at him, but when she caught his glaze, he held it firmly. After that, he sat forwards, arms crossed on the desk in front of him as he stared openly at her. She couldn't help but smile slightly.

His eyes dipped slightly below the desk to where her slightly too short skirt was riding up against her legs. Caught up in the delicious moment, delighting in his attention, she slowly uncrossed her legs. Feeling the friction of her stiletto against the ground, she delicately dragged one leg away from the other, careful never to give the impression to the other woman that anything was amiss. Slowly she revealed to Tony the absence of any type of underwear hiding underneath the teeny, tight skirt. It had been her first day on the job after all, she hadn't wanted to ruin her outfit with panty lines. Tony's jaw dropped slightly in appreciation, and she could see him shuffling slightly in his seat. It made Giselle flush all over. If the woman had known how hot she was beneath the collar, or how dripping wet she was, she might have been shocked.

"You also have to remember that whatever the client wants, the client gets. We all follow that rule here," said the woman, patting her stomach with a nostalgic smile. "It can be tiring, but we're all about building strong working relationships, and every one of our team gets a wonderful commission to take home as a result. I'm not just talking about the sales team. Go above and beyond, and you'll be privy to that bonus as well."

Giselle couldn't tear her eyes off of Tony as the woman prattled, losing herself to her own good memories. She delicately trailed one hand from where it had been resting on her keyboard down to under the table, where it delicately pulled back the fabric of her skirt. She was glad for the opaque desk as she pulled the fabric out of the way to give Tony a better look at the completely shaved flesh.

She could almost hear the moan that fell from his lips as he watched her delicately tracing the soft skin of her upper thighs, imagining just for a moment that it was his hand teasing her clit. She could see his own hands fumbling to unzip his trousers, fumbling to relieve the pressure and unleash his throbbing cock. It did not disappoint. She furtively glanced across at his still distracted former PA, who was now telling the story about a devil's threesome she had once had in a maze, and then returned her attention to Tony, who was now slowly rubbing his length with a slight quirk to his lips as he watched her encircle her clit with a single finger.

She felt the familiar spark run through her body, squirming slightly to adjust her position and get the pressure and speed just right. He looked like he wanted to fall before her on his hands and knees and finish the job himself, but instead he watched her gently stroke, teasingly slow at all times.

At first, as he matched her speed, but then the desperation caught him when she gently slipped first one finger between her wet lips, shortly followed by another. She stroked the warm depth slowly, rubbing in the delicious way that made her toes curl, fighting the urge to moan and give away what was happening beneath the desk. She pushed deeper, using her palm to maintain firm pressure on her clit, rubbing up and down. She wanted to grind down into the seat and stroke herself all over. Tony was stroking hard now too, looking close to release, and Giselle bit her lip.

Their fun was abruptly stopped when a familiar figure appeared at the end of the corridor. Startled, Giselle yanked her hand out of her skirt. Clearing her throat, she smoothed down the fabric, and grabbed the bottle of hand sanitiser off the desktop. Violet blinked out of her thoughts, startled by the sudden movement, and looked at Giselle enquiringly as she cleaned her hands,

"Sorry, I don't like unfamiliar keyboards," she said, smiling in a way that she hoped was convincing. Tony was quickly tucking himself back into his trousers, looking confused as to why his fun had stopped, but he was answered by his wife pulling the door open without invitation, just as he succeeded in making himself decent. She slammed the door behind her without even a glance in Giselle's direction.

"She likes to check in on him," said the former PA. Giselle asked innocently,

"Oh, really? Why's that?" The other woman rubbed her stomach with a wistful smile,

"He's the only person truly off limits to the rest of the office, as per their agreement, but that doesn't stop people from trying it on with him. She likes to mark her territory." She stood up with a smile, "Now, shall we get on with some actual work? We need to make some calls and get his lunch shortly. He's very particular about what he'll eat."


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four: Giovanni's_

For the next week, they behaved themselves to the best of their abilities. No under the desk shenanigans, no meetings in corridors, or close contact in his office. All of this was certainly helped by his wife failing to ever leave them alone together. Giselle was beginning to wonder if the woman actually worked there at all, or if she was actually just being paid to spy on her husband round the clock.

Considering it was her first proper job, she was doing rather well she thought. She had their morning routine down to an absolute tee. She normally got in at 08:45 to run through his appointments for the day, check in with Bella about who to expect, and then get him a black coffee and a cheese bagel from the café next door in time for his arrival at 09:00. They then went through everything in time for Coleen to skulk past the window at about 09:15.

Except on the Friday morning, Renee did not skulk. Not at her usual time, or any time after that, until eventually – around about lunchtime – the curiosity got the better of her.

"Is Renee away for the weekend?" she asked when she brought in his tea.

He looked up from his paperwork, looking at her chest appreciatively as she bent over his desk, dipping slightly lower than was probably necessary. "Ah, no, Rebecca – our youngest – is not well, and she thought she would stay home with her." Giselle blinked slightly in surprise, straightening immediately,

"You have a daughter?" she asked. He removed his glasses,

"Two actually, and a boy." Giselle supposed she shouldn't be surprised. He was at least in his forties, no matter how lithe and strong she liked to imagine he was as she thought of him in the dark hours of the night.

"Should I ring Giovanni's and change the reservation for tonight then?" He blinked in confusion and then groaned, abruptly remembering that he and his wife had been due to have dinner with some representatives from a rather large supplier that night.

"Oh, God. I agreed that there would be four of us, she was supposed to help me get the paperwork done with them tonight." Giselle perched herself on the edge of his desk, and for once he didn't stop to admire her shapely legs.

"Well, could you get someone else? The company's paying, I'm sure one of the women in the office would be more than happy for a Friday night out?" Tony's gaze turned hopefully in her direction, and she crossed her arms, causing pillowy breasts to push up slightly, "I'm not sure that's a very good idea, Tony."

"Giselle," he said, leaning back in his chair and looking at her hard from under his thick eyebrows. "We both know none of the girls here can compete with you. If we're going to win that deal, we need to put our best foot forward."

"Are you calling me a foot, Tony?" she asked, only slightly teasing.

"Please, Giselle, as a personal favour to me." She continued to dither for a moment, and he leant in for the kill, "Think about that commission you will get." She thought about the bills rapidly racking up at home, and how nice it would be to have a little extra to top up her bank balance. Tony got something out of his desk drawer and slid it towards her, "You can use the company credit card to buy yourself something nice to wear."

"I'm not sure that's what the cards for," Giselle said, although she was already picking it up.

"Please, I've got the boss wrapped round my little finger," Tony said with a grin. Giselle raised an eyebrow,

"I hope that's the only thing she's wrapped around," she said.

That evening, Giselle found herself striding out of the bathroom into an office floor deserted except for the solitary figure sitting on Bella's desk. He let out a long, low wolf whistle at the sight of her. She had been practically poured into the tight red number, her blonde hair twisted up into a delicate chignon, and her lipstick refreshed to match her attire.

"I couldn't have chosen better myself," he said, biting his lip slightly. She shook her head at his tired attire, which he had not changed.

"I see you made an effort," she said, laughing slightly at the worn suit.

"I'm a man, we don't need to make an effort." He held out an arm, "Shall I call us a cab?" he asked. Giselle stopped, pulling him back slightly,

"Tony, how oblivious are you?" He blinked in confusion. "Giovanni's is on the corner. Have you never noticed it on your way in?" He scratched the back of his head,

"I'm not a morning person?" He flushed as she laughed, accepting the arm he offered,

"Come on, we don't want to keep them waiting."

The pair that they met at the restaurant consisted of a surprisingly tall, sharp faced blonde lady, and a man of about Tony's age, who Giselle had to say was almost the spitting image of her managing director. They both stood as the pair entered, their expressions simultaneously brightening as they saw their dining companions.

Giselle held out a hand to the man as they approached, and he immediately caught it with a roguish grin and laid a kiss upon it. _He almost has a Harrison Ford-esque quality to him_ , she thought.

"I don't believe we have had the pleasure," he said, never taking his eyes off of Giselle's chest, which was spilling out of her dress slightly. "Tony, I was expecting your wife, and instead I am greeted by this enchanting creature?" Giselle blushed under his scrutiny, and this only seemed to please him more.

"Renee had to stay home with our daughter, so you have the pleasure of Miss van Outen's company for the evening. I hope that does not disappoint you, Christopher?" he said, already seeing the deal being signed.

"Oh, not a disappointment at all," Christopher said. "Not at all."

Giovanni's was a tiny restaurant, and they soon found themselves squeezed together into a booth. They were practically on top of each other in the tiny space, lit by the intimate glow of candlelight and increasingly heady from the wine and close proximity. Christopher practically had his nose in Giselle's cleavage the whole night, which did not go entirely unnoticed by Tony, but her MD was soon pulled away and wrapped up in the perfumed embrace of the blonde.

The paperwork was signed and perfected rapidly, and she was enjoying the lack of expectation of what was going to happen next, and the fun of it all. When Christopher leant in to kiss her, she felt that it was more than just a deal, and for her part, she rather enjoyed running her fingers through the admittedly slightly less grey hair of her Tony doppelganger.

The dessert that came to the table was a bowl of ripe, succulent strawberries drowned in cream, and Christopher watched as she licked her lips in anticipation. She reached out to delicately pluck a strawberry from the bowl, licking the cream from the strawberry in one smooth loop of her tongue, before biting down and sucking the sweet, red juice that oozed from fruit. She repeated this process, strawberry by strawberry as the men of the table watched with open mouths and throbbing cocks, until at last she stopped to suck the juice from her fingers with a satisfied smile, never breaking eye contact with her companion.

Finishing her second bottle of wine, she drunkenly excused herself from the table and tottered her way into the back of the restaurant. When she was finishing in the tiny one-person toilet, she was interrupted by a single knock at the door.

"Occupied." There was another knock, "Give me a minute," she said, slightly annoyed by the persistence of the knocking.

"Giselle," hissed a voice. It was Christopher. She quickly readjusted herself, doing her best to look hot as she slowly opened the door. She must have succeeded because he groaned. "God," he moaned. "After those strawberries, I knew I couldn't wait a second longer." She could work with that.

With a single crook of the finger, she beckoned him in. All of the heat and frustration that had built up that week, as she had worked alongside the man who she wanted so desperately but could not have, exploded and she was ravenous. Closing the door behind him, she pressed her body flushed against him and captured his lips with own, tasting the sweet dessert that they had just enjoyed earlier that night.

His fingernails dug into her toned back, pulling her harder against him so that he could feel every curve of her body. He dropped his head to begin to kiss and bite every unblemished inched of her skin. She allowed a moment for him to ravish her, then gently dropped to her knees before him and ran her hands up his thighs, delighting in the way she excited him. She rubbed his cock for a moment through his suit trousers, and then at his insistence unzipped his trousers and took him in hand.

Slowly, she ran her hand up and down the length, delighting in his heat, and then she took him into her mouth and began to suck. He buried his hands in her hair, pulling the long blonde locks in his desperation for her to go faster as his pleasure built. He dropped his head back, biting his lip to keep from shouting, and then abruptly pulled out of her mouth just before climax.

Pulling her up forcefully, he pushed her up against the door and slipped a rough finger between her legs, gently fingering the wet, warm core, and then lifted her off her feet and entered her in one thrust. She would have cried out in pleasure had he not covered her mouth with one huge hand, and he held it there as he began to thrust, and wrapping her legs around his waist to get ever deeper. She squeezed tight around his waist,

"More," she pleaded. "Oh God. Right there. Right there." If anyone heard their moans, or the banging of the door then no-one came. She could feel the warmth building inside of her.

"Fuck, Giselle. I'm close," he groaned, banging her harder up against the door, until finally lights popped in front of his eyes and he came abruptly, pinning her in the process. When the moment had passed, he dropped her, and she fell to the ground in a giggling, if slightly unsatisfied heap.

He sat down heavily on the toilet seat, wiping the sweat from his neck with a grin at the sight of the girl on the ground. She climbed to her feet, straightening herself, and he took great delight in helping her to reposition her breasts so they weren't spilling from her dress. She blew him a final kiss and stepped out into the corridor, where she found Tony in the doorway out in the smoking area.

Her boss had a cigarette in his hand and an unhappy expression on his face.

"We're leaving," he said, simply. There was lipstick on his collar, and his fly was undone. Giselle closed the bathroom door behind her, as if that would hide what had just happened. "I've called us a cab."

She didn't have time to argue before he had taken her by the arm and begun leading her back downstairs and out the front door. A cab was indeed waiting for them out the front, but she pulled herself out of his grasp.

"I'm not going with you when you're behaving like this, Tony." He raised an eyebrow,

"Like what?" She crossed her arms, and for once his eyes managed to stay fixed on her face.

"Like a child whose favourite toy decided to go and play with someone else," she snapped, slapping away the hand that reached for her. "You can't have it both ways, Tony. You can't tell me that we can't be together, and then get angry when someone else shows an interest." He rolled his eyes, angrily stomping out his cigarette,

"I don't have an issue with someone else showing an interest—"

"Oh, really? Because you sure as Hell seem bothered right now—"

"I don't care about you sucking him off in toilet, Giselle; you could do it a thousand time and I wouldn't care—"

"I fucked him too," Giselle said, slightly vindictively. His nostrils flared angrily, "Does that make you care if someone else actually wants to touch me like that?"

"I don't care if they touch you, Giselle, I care if I have to hear it. I care that I have to hear you degrade yourself like this, trading sex for commission." Giselle reeled slightly, almost toppling drunkenly right of her heel.

"I'm not a whore, Tony," she screeched, well aware that people were staring from inside the restaurant. "For fuck sake, the deal was already done, and I thought I would finish it with a little fun." She jabbed a finger at his open fly, "If I'm a whore then so are you," she snarled. "And so is your wife, who need I remind you would have been in my place had it not been for your daughter at home? Our business is apparently built on this fucked up shit, so if you don't want to hear it then don't listen."

Tony was seething as he noticed their slightly shocked clients at the door, but Giselle was gone, stumbling into the cab on her own. "You can find your own way home," she snarled.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter Five: The Rules of the Game_

Giselle strode into the office on Monday morning with a confident air about her. Determined to put the argument behind her and behave like nothing had happened, she had started the morning with a spin class and a shot of disgusting green juice, arriving to the office at seven thirty in all her lycra glory. The premises were deserted, no Bella to get in her way as she prepared Tony's work for the day.

It was as she was leaning over the desk, backside straining in her lycra as she reached for the coffee slightly out of grasp, that she was interrupted by the sound of Tony.

"Giselle, what are you doing in at this time?" She jumped to attention, tugging her crop top down slightly as she blushed under Tony's scrutiny.

"Tony!" she gasped. "I meant to get changed into something more appropriate before you arrived." She shot a glance at her Fitbit, "What are _you_ doing in so early?" His pale eyes were fixed on her perfect face, stunned by the beauty of the woman when she wasn't wearing a scrap of makeup,

"I couldn't focus on my workout, I had a bad start to the day, so I thought I would get started on some work." He took a long draw from his coffee, eyes sliding down to the way the lycra hugged her backside. She stood upright and turned to perch on the edge of her desk, "I see you had more luck this morning." She smirked under his scrutiny, making a show of flapping her hoodie very slightly,

"Oh, yes… I do like a ride in the morning… only problem is it gets me so hot and bothered." Slowly, she slid the jacket down her arms, humming slightly in pleasure at the feeling of the cool air against her warm skin and at the sight of Tony's Adam's apple bobbing.

Her finger slipped under the strap of her top, running across the hollows of her collarbone, and he swallowed audibly,

"We need to talk, Giselle," he said, his voice wobbling slightly. "Come with me."

He whirled away with briefcase and suit jacket in arm, and she was left, slightly bereft at the rejection. She put her coffee down and followed nervously, knowing that he was going to bring up the other night.

She found him leaning on the edge of the desk, sleeves pushed up in a rather enticing manner to reveal flexing forceps crossed over his broad chest. He pushed the chair in front of his desk out for her, gesturing for her to sit.

"I presume this is about the other night," she said, as she sat and crossed her legs. He rubbed the back of his neck,

"Yes." She crossed her hands across her lap in anticipation of a telling off. "I crossed a line, Giselle… I let my personal feelings get to me, and I risked our business. We made a deal the other night, a very good deal, and what happened was just business as usual... what happened after the deal was sealed, however. I let my feelings get to me, and that doesn't usually happen." She reached out and placed a dangerous hand on his upper thigh,

"Your feelings, Tony?" she asked. He inhaled sharply, cock visibly stirring.

"You know what I feel, Giselle. This teasing… the temptation right in front of me, it's not something I've had to deal with for some time." Her hand slid slightly higher, sparking with the electricity of her proximity to the irresistible man,

"Oh?" she asked. "So you don't think I did something… naughty?" He groaned slightly as her hand finally touched where he longed for it to touch.

"Oh God, so naughty," he groaned, closing his eyes. "But it was just business, and that's how we do things around here."

"And why is that?" she asked, stopping the sliding of her hand. "You know, you never really explained the particular eccentricities of Steele Pots and Pans," she muttered. "I need to know the rules if I'm going to grasp all of the opportunities presented to me," she said, punctuating her sentence by gently cupping her target, purring slightly as he bit his lip.

"The rules?" he asked, mind already clouded slightly, and then he opened his eyes and blinked. "I suppose I have been too distracted this past week." She stroked, running a finger up the seam of his trouser and gently teasing him. "You know it's not just Steele Pots and Pans," he said, and she stroked again, applying greater pressure and causing him to shuffle closer, desperate for her to take him in her hand. She continued to tease him, coaxing the information out of him,

"Really?" she purred. "I suppose you're going to tell me the whole of our industry, even Peter's company, operate in this manner." She cupped the warmth, and he gripped the edge of his desk in anticipation, only for her hand to slide away to his thigh.

"The ones we deal with, yes," he said. "It began with Steeles' parent company, my father's business, in the sixties… they were known for their large personalities and their parties." He paused as she ducked her head, her warm breath brushing her throbbing manhood, but she didn't touch. "Most of them were screwing in those days, it was the swinging sixties after all. It wasn't long before that culture was…" He jumped slightly as Giselle grazed the front of his trousers with her teeth, "Ingrained in the business. Then the people who worked there went on to found their own companies, and they had a habit of finding others like themselves to do business with. We use sex for partnerships… we don't do anything to pay for a deal, but sex builds strong communities… and our industry has been building exponentially of late. Everyone wants to deal with Steele," he said, laughing at his own ridiculous phrasing.

Giselle smiled indulgingly and, finally having her answer, she leant in to press a hot kiss to his trousers, fumbling with his belt in desperation to progress to the fun stuff. He stopped her abruptly, pressing a hand to her shoulder,

"I'm guessing you realise the bad start to my day was an argument with Renee." Giselle smiled sympathetically,

"I've dealt with my fair share of married men, Tony. I know the signs." He tucked an errant blonde curl behind her ear, and then shook his head,

"I still love her," he said. "In spite of everything we've done, in spite of all the deals and bad decisions, we love each other, and we want to stay together for the kids… If I cheated on her, she would never let me see me my kids again. This can't happen, Giselle. You're too close for comfort, my wife would never forgive me." Giselle sat back in her chair, defeated, and she sighed.

"Alright, if that's what you want." He nodded and stood up, readjusting his trousers for comfort,

"Now, for God sake, go put something else on. I can't think straight with you bending over that desk in that slip of fabric." She smirked and got to her feet, turning with a flick of her perfect curls.

As she left the office, she noticed Renee out of the corner of her eye, watching her exit from the end of the corridor.


End file.
